I Can Devour Spirits

Sun Huang’s funeral hall was set up on the afternoon of the twenty-third day of the twelfth lunar month.

With the New Year approaching, the coffin was only kept for three days to avoid disrupting the festivities, and the burial was held on the morning of the twenty-sixth day of the twelfth lunar month.

When Sun Huang’s coffin was buried, many people held Liu Eying’s hand, comforting her. Liu Eying just held Sun Huang’s memorial tablet, remained silent with a cold expression, as tears rolled down her cheeks like a line of water...

Duan Rong was also in the funeral procession. In front of Sun Huang’s grave, he burned some paper money and set off some firecrackers, offering a modest tribute to the old Leader.

Duan Rong returned to the city from the suburban cemetery, feeling as if a layer of gloom had settled over his heart.

Recently, a series of unpleasant events had disturbed his peace of mind quite a bit.

Instead of going back to the Escort Agency, Duan Rong diverted his steps toward the tea house.

The second floor of the tea house offered a wide view; sitting by the window sipping tea could help ease the knot in his heart. With recent major events, Duan Rong also wanted to hear some street gossip and public opinions.

Duan Rong entered the tea house; on the first floor, there were four or five tables sparsely occupied by guests. Near the New Year, there were few people on the streets, and unexpectedly, the tea house was also quite deserted.

Duan Rong sighed softly; it seemed his wish to hear the gossip and public opinions might be in vain. With so few guests, it was unlikely he could learn anything substantial.

Duan Rong slowly ascended to the second floor, but found even fewer guests there, only three tables occupied.

He shook his head slightly and chose a seat with the best view.

As soon as Duan Rong sat down, the waiter came to greet him. Duan Rong ordered a pot of tea soup and a dish of fruits.

This tea soup was not a clear tea, but a thick soup blended with ginger, dates, and other ingredients; in the cold winter, drinking it was quite warming and stomach-soothing, very popular among the guests.

Sipping the steaming thick tea soup, Duan Rong looked out the window at the rows of rooftops in the winter sunlight, and his mood gradually calmed.

After finishing a bowl of tea soup, suddenly a thought came to Duan Rong, and his Divine Sense spread out abruptly, instantly covering the entire tea house.

Since he was already here, he might as well listen in, even though there weren’t many guests.

Duan Rong poured himself another bowl of tea soup, sipping it while gazing out the window; as his Divine Sense swept through, the conversation contents of guests at eight tables above and below gathered in his mind.

Three tables of guests were discussing the recent major Filthy Blood Sect case, talking convincingly; the public notice for solving the case was indeed somewhat effective, and Shen Yanliu’s prestige in the alleys had evidently risen. In the mouths of those three tables of guests, this County Magistrate seemed to have the power to move heaven and earth.

Duan Rong couldn’t help but chuckle silently; Shen Yanliu’s widespread deployment of Hidden Guards, he didn’t know if it was true or not. But the claim that Hidden Guards disguised as Miscellaneous Tasks entered Wei Yutian’s mansion, eventually discovering Wei Yutian’s identity as a Filthy Blood Sect follower, was simply fictional.

Duan Rong picked up his cup, preparing to finish the last bit of tea soup, but his hand suddenly paused, eventually placing the cup back down; his previously mellow gaze turned cold instantly.

In the corner behind him, at that table, three people were sitting, talking about Sun Huang and Liu Eying.

These three people, judging by their appearance, seemed fairly decent.

One had a square face, another appeared somewhat frail, while the third had prominent eyebrows and eyes, looking quite brisk.

The square-faced man was named Wang Chun, a neighbor of Sun Huang’s family.

The other two sitting opposite him were both pickpockets from the market, and were leaders of their street district, each supervising over ten people.

Wang Chun said: ”Are you two going to do it or not, give me a straight answer.”

The frail-looking pickpocket hesitated, saying, ”Although Sun Huang is dead, he was part of the Yuan Shun Escort Agency. If this matter gets exposed, the Yuan Shun Escort Agency might investigate.”

Wang Chun said: ”Look at the two of you, timid and scared! If I didn’t need someone to keep watch, I wouldn’t bother asking you.”

Actually, Wang Chun was looking for them not because he needed someone to keep watch, but because he needed a way to sell the loot.

Both were pickpocket leaders and had known Wang Chun for a long time, so he brought them in to spur on this matter.

Wang Chun said: ”Sun Huang was an Escort Master for about ten years and a Leader for nearly twenty years. His living habits were always frugal, so I reckon his family must have accumulated quite a wealth of silver coins over the years.”

Upon hearing this, the two’s expressions indeed changed.

Wang Chun naturally noticed their expressions change, and continued: ”The New Year is approaching; I think you two are still not short on money. Such a good deal and you’re pushing it away? If you don’t do it, I’ll find someone else.”

After speaking, Wang Chun kept a cold face and continued drinking his tea.

The strong-browed pickpocket glanced at the frail-looking pickpocket beside him, then turned to Wang Chun, smiling: ”Brother Wang Chun, you’ve brought us a money-making opportunity; if we keep hesitating, it would be ungrateful. We’ll do it.”

Wang Chun glanced at the frail-looking pickpocket, and said: ”Mouse, what do you say?”

The frail-looking pickpocket laughed and said: ”It’s indeed a money-making opportunity, and the risk is manageable. We can do it!”

”See, now that’s what brothers should say!” Wang Chun’s eyes shifted, lowering his already quiet voice a little more, saying: ”The New Year is approaching, no better time than now; you two get ready, and we’ll act tonight at the second hour.”

Wang Chun’s father had already passed away, his mother bedridden year-round, and he himself had no proper livelihood, aimlessly wandering the market every day.